Category Archives: The Beck/Smith Vault

RIP Elizabeth Taylor, the last great Hollywood film goddess…As the world says farewell to the actress-philanthropist, who died today at age 79, we also say goodbye to a kind of glamor that simply does not exist today. Here is a glimpse of Elizabeth Taylor’s world when she was at her very peak, and Marilyn Beck shared an adventure.

November 11, 1963

Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton Find Paradise On ‘Night of the Iguana’ Shoot

In this tiny, tropical village they have found their heaven on earth, where they can openly display their love for each other, freer than they have ever been from notoriety and criticism.

In an exclusive interview with this reporter, Burton explained that he and his Elizabeth are now in process of buying a home in Puerto Vallarta, that they have found contentment here that has thus far eluded them in the other places they have traveled.

“Half the people here,” he explained, “have never heard of Elizabeth. The other half might have heard of her, but couldn’t care less about her behavior. The natives allow us to live our lives, to act ourselves.”

He grinned disarmingly, as if unaware his statements were newsworthy, and explained, “Elizabeth and I have already put in an offer on one home. It was on the market for $40,000. Unfortunately, when the owner discovered we were the bidders he jacked up his price to $60,000 and we backed out. I am sure of this, however, If we keep looking we will find another home here that pleases us. “This much we’ve decided: we do want to live in Puerto Vallarta. It’s paradise.”

It is understandable that both he and Miss Taylor should have fallen so in love with this tropical village. For here they have been able to act much like honeymooners blissfully in love.

Local cab drivers point out to tourists “Casa Kimberley,” the luxurious villa nestled high on a rocky hillside where the famous couple live together

Each morning a candy-striped jeep, boldly inscribed on its side with the words “Casa Kimberley” calls for Burton at the entranceway of the house. The actor jumps in beside the driver and, as the jeep makes its perilous way down the cobblestone streets, narrowly avoiding pigs, burros, and half-naked children, Burton will turn to wave a last goodbye to Elizabeth, standing smiling down at him from the balcony of their home.

Around noon, the jeep will return for Miss Taylor and drive her to the beach where she will board their boat, “The Taffy,” to make the 6-7 [corrected] mile trip down coast to Mismaloya, the location site of Burton’s film, “Night of the Iguana.”

After spending the afternoon with him, on the set, they will board the boat together shortly before dusk to return to Casa Kimberley.

During the evenings, the couple will dine alone at home or will join friends in one of the six restaurant-bars in town.

Even to one spending just a few days in Puerto Vallarta, it becomes obvious that the charm of this tropical land has had its magical effect on Liz and Burton. Where they tried deliberately not to be seen in public in both Rome and London, here in Mexico they make almost a show out of publicly acting like a couple in love. Their attitude seems to say: “We adore each other and are proud of it. We want the whole world to know how we feel.” There is not a soul in Puerto Vallarta who could remain oblivious to that fact.

I first became a witness to their love while standing on my hotel balcony one evening, mesmerized by the glories that nature was unfolding before me. The heavens seemed to be on fire. The sky, grey with the promise of night, had been touched by unseen fingers of fire and turned shades of gilded red and gold. The sun, resting briefly atop a low hanging cloud before its final descent, spilled a trail of liquid amber along the tropical waters, then slid silently into the sea.

It was twilight in Puerto Vallarta, one of the most thrilling spectacles offered anywhere in the world. The coconut trees lining the shore were now bathed in partial darkness and swayed to the rhythm of the surf as a mild tropical breeze arose.

Unexpectedly, from the horizon, a ship approached, killed its motors about a hundred feet from shore, and drifted silently, lifted gently and unprotestingly by the gentle push of the waves. The ship was the “Taffy” and from its cabin Elizabeth Taylor emerged, climbed to the bow where she poised for a moment, then disappeared into the sea, cutting the water with an expert and graceful dive. A moment later she surfaced and waved to Burton who stood at the stern of the craft. He called, “I’ll see you on shore, luv,” and made a motion to the native captain to resume the progress of the boat.

It seemed but moments later when the actress’ powerful stroke had carried her to the beach. There, like a child confident she is safe from unseen eyes, she pranced upon the sand, shaking her head to free the sea water held captive in her hair. She stood for a moment, her arms outstretched in a gesture of abandoned happiness, then skipped back into the surf, laughing with delight as the waves playfully slapped at her legs.

“Elizabeth,” Burton’s voice broke the stillness as he came trotting down the beach to meet her. They embraced, clung to each other for a moment, then walked arm in arm to an awaiting jeep. They were going home.

“Elizabeth is very happy here,” Burton confessed to me the following day. “We both feel we’ve found heaven.”

He proceeded to explain why. “Here in Puerto Vallarta we can be ourselves. Last Sunday, for instance, we decided to take the boat and spend the day with Lisa on a deserted beach along the coast. At least we thought it was deserted. After dropping our gear on the sand and spreading out our towels, we looked up and noticed several families of natives watching us from halfway up the mountain. I waved and they immediately began to approach, friendly and unafraid. They paid almost no attention to Elizabeth and myself. It was apparent that they didn’t have the vaguest notion who we were. But Lisa, they fell in love with her. Even with my limited knowledge of Spanish, I could understand that they were telling us how beautiful she was, saying that she looked, with her deep copper tan, like a Mexican Niña.

When lunchtime came, I asked our visitors if they’d care to share our sandwiches. They were delighted, even happier to sample our tequila. Then it was time for them to treat us. They invited us up to their hut, to share their tortillas and beans – and their local brew. Elizabeth and I sat on the dirt floor of the thatched hut, sharing the simple food that the women prepared for us over an open fire. And, while Elizabeth and I basked in those golden moments of anonymity, Lisa enjoyed herself playing tag in the jungle outside the hut with our host’s children.”

For over two hours Burton talked of the life he and Elizabeth have found in Mexico. Never did he say “I”. His statements always began with “we.” Charming and suave and very much a man of the world, he none-the-less gave the impression of a person as overwhelmingly in love as a teenager smitten with his first affair of the heart.

Sitting with him in the thatched roofed bar at Mismaloya, little more than a clearing out of a lush forest overgrown with wild banana and coconut trees, he pointed in the direction of the Taffy, at anchor in the breakwater. “You know, of course,” he offered, “that Elizabeth named the boat after me. Remember the rhyme, ‘Taffy was a Welshman. Taffy was a thief? …'” His blue eyes shone with pride and he seemed all at once like a boastful small boy, proud of his mischievous behavior.

This impression remained as Burton continued to speak. Charming, a marvelous story teller, he seemed bent on disclosing the intimate little details of his affair with Elizabeth Taylor. “She is my woman,” his attitude proclaimed.

Yet, though Elizabeth Taylor might be a woman in love, a woman who is now acting like an ecstatic bride, she proved a few hours later that, like women everywhere, she has her moments of annoyance with her man, when anger and possessiveness can erase all other feelings.

On that particular day, because only a half days shooting was scheduled, she had decided not to make the trip to Mismaloya. Instead, she waited for Burton at “Casa Kimberly, expecting him to arrive home by two o’clock in the afternoon.

He, however, chose that day to rebel. A terribly gregarious person who seems complete only when he is surrounded by people, he sat talking with me for several hours, though he knew Elizabeth was waiting at home. Then, urged y his secretary who warned in whispers, “Miss Taylor will be upset,” he reluctantly arose and offered me a ride back to the mainland on his boat. We had begun to leave the bar when he spied Director John Huston and Ava Gardner at a corner table and made his way over, “Just to say hello.” It was more than an hour later when the frantic secretary finally persuaded him to board the boat and it was past 6 p.m. when we finally docked at Puerto Vallarta. Elizabeth’s houseboy, sent down to the water’s edge to try to locate Burton, rushed up to him and explained nervously in Spanish that Miss Taylor was very upset, had sent him to the beach three times earlier that afternoon to find him.

If Burton was worried over Elizabeth’s apparent wrath he gave no indication, just smiled, bestowed a kiss upon my cheek as he bid me farewell and said he’d probably see me later in town.

As it turned out, we did see each other again. That evening he and Elizabeth appeared together at the Hotel Rio, in the center of town. Whatever disagreement they may have had over Burton’s tardiness obviously resulted in no more than a lover’s quarrel for she sat beside him now, her face glowing with adoration as they sipped their cocktails and made love with their eyes. When they left a short time later, it was arm and arm, walking to the jeep that would take them down the cobblestone streets to their home.

Neither Richard Burton nor Elizabeth Taylor will discuss the possibility of their securing divorces from their present mates, yet there in Mexico such complications seem something that bothers them little. They are honeymooning. They have found their Shangri-la and if there is an Eddie Fisher and a Sybil Burton giving statements to the press in the United States – well, such things belong to another world, cannot penetrate the blissful state that has enveloped them.

Honeymooners are not uncommon in Puerto Vallarta. Its beauty and picturesque setting make it a lover’s paradise. Perhaps this is why the local citizens seem to be able to take Liz and Burton’s actions in stride. They point with pride to ‘Liz’s house, the Casa Kimberley.’ They comment on Lisa’s beauty. Yet they seem highly unconcerned with the notoriety that has surrounded Liz and Burton in other parts of the globe.

In a blue negligee she stands, waving to her lover as he leaves for a day’s work. In the neighborhood grocery shop she will wander, seeking some delicacy to delight her man when he returns home at night. In a picturesque cantina she sits, her eyes never leaving the face of the man with whom she is sharing paradise. Her hand reaches out to find his and she smiles, her violet eyes alight with rapture. Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton have found their heaven on earth. It’s possible that they feel they can cling to it forever here in this Eden-like village. They will buy a home high in the hills overlooking the sea where few will see and no one will are about their behavior. And if they must return to civilization – to a curious press, to demands from estranged mates, to a society shocked that they won’t conform to acceptable behavior — their return will only be a temporary one. And they will be able to tolerate it, knowing that they will return to the heaven they have found on earth where they can openly acknowledge their love. And where no one will judge them.

They may be making the big bucks now — but it wasn’t that long ago that these super stars were at the bottom of the barrel.

P. Diddy, one of the most well-known money makers of his time, started his career working for free. That’s right! He was an intern for the now-defunct Uptown Records and did everything from washing cars to fetching coffee. This bad boy worked his way up to being a dancer in Father MC’s video “Treat Them Like They Want to be Treated” while attending the prestigious Howard University, majoring in Business. He now owns his own record label and is worth over $300 million. Guess working for free really pays off!

The Material Girl Madonna worked at a Dunkin Donuts in New York City’s Times Square before becoming an international pop icon. Donuts anyone? Having a whopping IQ of 140, Madonna also won a scholarship to the University of Michigan for excellent grades and studied modern dance and drama for 3 semesters.

Singer Elvis Costello was another closet smarty pants and wears his trademark glasses because in a former incarnation he strained his eyes working as a computer programmer.

But no lowly beginner is as surprising as Tom Cruise, who at the age of 14 attended a Franciscan seminary for one year while thinking of becoming a priest. Katie Holmes must be glad that didn’t work out. In high school, he also had a brief stint as a paper boy for the Louisville Courier-Journal.

Funny lady Ellen DeGeneres had a variety of jobs as a house painter, an oyster shucker in New Orleans, a vacuum cleaner saleswoman, and a paralegal.

Whoopi Goldberg also worked hard for the money. Before her stardom, she applied makeup to corpses in a funeral parlor, and worked as a bricklayer and a bank teller.

Danny DeVito preferred to work with the living and was a qualified hairdresser (or stylist as they like to say). He was trained at the Wilfred Academy of Hair and Beauty in NYC before snagging a role in “Taxi.”

Mariah Carey tried her hand at beauty school but didn’t make the cut and dropped out after only one day on the job. She claims to have held several waitressing jobs and said she got fired from them all. Is anyone surprised? I didn’t think so.

Another actor claiming to have been let go is former “Cheers” star Woody Harrelson who said he had 17 odd jobs in one year and was fired from all of them. Maybe legalizing pot is not as good of an idea as he thought?

Hottie tottie Brad Pitt has no doubt had his fair share of odd jobs — his most infamous being a limousine driver in which he chauffeured strippers between bachelor parties, but only when he wasn’t delivering refrigerators. He also dressed up as a chicken on the street corner to advertise for the fast food chain “El Pollo Loco.”

His former wife Jennifer Aniston worked as a waitress in New York but that’s not as exciting.

“Titanic” megastar Kate Winslet used to work in a north London deli.

Ok, that’s not exciting either, but off-the-wall Rob Schneider washed dishes in an ice cream parlor before making it onto “Saturday Night Live.”

And get this — before getting his own TV show, comedian Jerry Seinfeld sold light bulbs over the telephone. Kind of crazy, huh?

That’s not all. Esteemed actress Helen Mirren worked at an amusement park in Southend as a “blagger” – employed to attract punters to the rides — and Sylvester Stallone earned his rent by tending the lion cages at the Central Park Zoo.

(In her July 23-opening “Salt,” Angelina Jolie’s spy character may be good, but may be bad. In real life, Jolie mastered this duality long ago, as evidenced by the following…)

Originally Published July 2005

Separated at Birth?
Good Angelina vs. Bad Angelina
by Steve Ryfle

Angelina Jolie is a hard one to figure out. Is she a freewheeling free spirit, a hyper-tattooed, oversexed, uninhibited superstar who wears her peccadilloes in plain sight, or a single mother and activist who devotes her free time to the plight of refugees in war-torn countries? Is she a shameless femme fatale, who would swipe an A-list husband away from a fellow actress, or a devoted parent raising her two kids?

The truth is there are two Angelinas, Good Angelina and Bad Angelina. Both were born in 1975, both are Jon Voight’s daughter, and both are big-time tabloid fodder. But while Bad Angelina is giving candid interviews about her sex life, Good Angelina is representin’ for the United Nations around the globe. Will Good eventually triumph over Bad, or will these two contradictory celebrity halves learn to coexist? Here’s how the yin and yang of Jolie measure up.

Good Angelina

Bad Angelina

First sightings: Made her movie debut at age five in “Looking to Get Out,” which starred her father. Got serious about acting in her teens, studying with Lee Strasberg, then came her grown-up debut: a supporting role as a robot in “Cyborg II: Glass Shadows” (1993). In 1997, won a Golden Globe for portraying Gov. George Wallace’s wife in a TV flick.

First sightings: Maybe it was the tough chick she played in “Hackers,” wearing a little tank top and no bra. Or maybe the druggie, AIDS-stricken model Gia Cavangi in “Gia.” Or the sexy psycho in “Girl, Interrupted.” Whichever it was, we knew this chick was out there.

Defining moment: In August 2005, was awarded honorary Cambodian citizenship for her humanitarian work, including a $3.2 million donation to help save an endangered forest. Her travels to poverty-stricken lands have also earned praise from the likes of Colin Powell.

Defining moment: Her three-year (2000-03) marriage to Billy Bob Thornton, 20 years her senior, was a pairing of oddballs. The couple’s peccadilloes (he liked to wear her underwear to the gym, she liked to give explicit interviews about their sexual escapades –and that’s just for starters) were legendary.

Family life: Her 4-year-old son Maddox was adopted from Cambodia, and infant daughter Zahara was recently adopted from Ethiopia. Zahara’s mother, an 18-year-old African woman, has publicly thanked Jolie for giving her kid a better life.

Homemaker: She’s chucked the Hollywood scene for a home outside London, where a typical evening revolves around feeding her kids and putting them to bed.

Homewrecker: In recent years, she says those quiet evenings at home with the kids were often preceded by lots of casual sex in hotel rooms. Now shacking with Brad Pitt, her “Mr. & Mrs. Smith” co-star and soon-to-be-ex-Mr. Jennifer Aniston.

Mad money: Just the third actress admitted to the $20 million club (following Julia and Cameron) when she starred in the hitman-and-hitwife comedy “Mr. & Mrs. Smith.”

Bad money: Won an Oscar for “Girl, Interrupted,” although many people thought the trophy should’ve gone to Winona Ryder.

Thinkwell: She’s studying Buddhism and hopes to learn Khmer, the Cambodian language. Among the books she’s professed to reading recently are “Atlas Shrugged” and “The Fountainhead” by uber-philosopher Ayn Rand.

Inkwell: She’s got at least 10 tattoos, probably a lot more. They reportedly include: a Chinese dragon, tribal designs, the Japanese symbol for “death,” a window, a Tennessee Williams quote, and a Latin proverb (“What nourishes me also destroys me”). She has removed a tat of Billy Bob’s name, tho.

Sensational: She struck out on her own at age 16, and worked as a professional model in London, New York, and Los Angeles, doing fashion stuff and appearing in music videos for Meat Loaf, Lenny Kravitz, the Lemonheads and the Rolling Stones.

Skin-sational: Unlike some other A-list actresses, she’s unafraid to bare it all. Gets nasty with Ethan Hawke in “Taking Lives” and Antonio Banderas in “Original Sin.”

Food facts: While shooting the first “Lara Croft” movie in 2000, she cleaned up her diet. Instead of coffee and a smoke for breakfast, she started eating (heavens!) eggs. She cut back on the booze, dumped cow’s milk for soy milk, and for dindins she switched to steamed fish and veggies.

Blood pacts: She and Billy Bob showed their mutual affection by writing messages in blood on the walls over their bed, and wearing vials of each other’s blood around their necks. And for her first wedding to the “Trainspotting” guy, she wore a shirt emblazoned with the groom’s name, written in–you guessed it–her own blood.

Quotable: “My role as goodwill ambassador has made my work as a film star relatively dull. I can’t find anything that interests me enough to go back to work. I’m simply not excited about anything. I’m not excited about going to a film set.”

Miss Creepy: She collects knives and wanted to be a mortician when she was a kid, but says, “I am probably the least morbid person one can meet. If I think more about death than some other people, it is probably because I love life more than they do.”